


Sweet dreams are made of this

by ahominecchii



Series: Welcome to Benriya [4]
Category: Gangsta. (Manga)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Horrors, Comfort, Flashbacks, Friendship, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 18:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4756985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahominecchii/pseuds/ahominecchii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-But now he’s stood over his father’s mangled corpse, sprayed with fresh crimson liquid and pieces of his intestines. His only working eye was blurred with the unfallen tears that hovered on the surface but they weren’t tears of despair, they were tears of appreciation and happiness. He was finally free of his father’s torment, free of the daily beatings he would receive without reason-</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet dreams are made of this

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys and welcome to my 4th instalment to the "Welcome to Benriya" series.
> 
> Like the others this story is quite short and im sorry for that once again, I just hope you like it nonetheless.
> 
> Anyway enjoy!  
> (p.s this was self beta'ed because my beta is still on holiday lol sorry for any mistakes you might find)

_“You killed them… you killed them all Nicolas… I didn’t think… I thought…”_

The shine of the moon reflected off the twlights blade, causing a faint sheen in the darkened room of Worrick’s father’s study.

When Nicolas asked him if he should kill them all he didn’t expect him to go through with it, Worrick didn’t expect Nicolas to assassinate them in the dead of the night, that’s why he agreed to his question because he thought it was all in tasteless humour.

But now he’s stood over his father’s mangled corpse, sprayed with fresh crimson liquid and pieces of his intestines. His only working eye was blurred with the unfallen tears that hovered on the surface but they weren’t tears of despair, they were tears of appreciation and happiness. He was finally free of his father’s torment, free of the daily beatings he would receive without reason.

He’d waited for that day to come ever since his father had laid his hands on him at the age of six, and now that it had arrived Worrick found himself lost for words.

His hands come up to rub over his good eye so he can take a look at his savoir, the person that had freed him from the never ending nightmare he was living and sees the boy staring down at the pile of bodies stacked on top of each other.

He doesn’t looked fazed in the slightest, like taking another person’s life doesn’t mean a damn thing to him. His orbs are empty, there's no regret lingering in them nor is there any sorrow lurking behind his irises, they’re fixed on the way the blood is draining from the victims wounds like a sponge, almost like it’s the most fascinating scene he’s ever witnessed.

 _“Nicolas…”_ Worrick whispers; more to himself than actually trying to get the others attention.

His attempt to stand is useless and the excruciating pain in his left eye is making him feel faint, he knows he’s going to pass out soon, he can feel it over the horizon, and his prediction only came true when Nicolas’s splattered shirt started to turn fuzzy and dull and the sinister smirk that grew on his lips as he looked over his accomplishment turned into a blurred haze.

o0o

Worrick shot out of his sleep with a hiss and before he could stop himself sat up and into Alex’s open arms. His eye stung as if dreaming about how he got the injury had triggered it and placed a clammy palm over the mutilated flesh.

“Sounds like you had a bad dream” it always surprised Worrick how quickly he would calm down once Alex’s voice reached his ears. He relaxed under her touch, the feeling of gentle hands caressing his sweaty back.

He moved in closer and rested his chin on her shoulder and exhaled, sometimes he couldn’t remember how he survived without the woman in his arms.

“Not a bad dream, more of a recap of my youth” his own hands moved to Alex’s hips.

“I dreamt about me and Nick’s childhood and other things that happened to us, not exactly the best memory to float back”

He heard Alex hum before leaning back and looking Worrick dead in the eye; slight worry washed over her features.

“This is the part where you say _it’s just a dream dear_ ” he joked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

Slender fingers brushed ash blonde stray hairs out of Worrick’s face, tucking them behind his ears with a sigh.

“But it’s not, is it?”

He couldn’t answer that, because as much as Worrick would love to say it was all just a dream that was the reality of his life, he had a terrible and abusive childhood that haunted him nightly and there was nothing he could do to avoid it. And Nicolas's childhood wasn't any better than his.

A low chuckle escaped his lips and before he could stop himself his hands wandered from Alex’s hips to her ass; giving each cheek a firm squeeze.

"You can help me get over the trauma if you want” Worrick was convinced that one day he’d be able to feel Alex up without receiving a slap around the face, and when that day came he’d give thanks to all the gods that watched over him.

He flopped back down against the mattress sniggering and stretched his stiff limbs. He was awake earlier than usual; 6:30 was around the time Nicolas woke up to do some early morning training, and if he strained his ears hard enough he’d probably be able to hear the sound of dumbbells clamping together.

He patted the space next to him for Alex to lie besides him and when she did put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close; burying his nose into her hair.

“Promise me one thing Alex-chan…” he started as his thumb rubbed shapes into the woman’s soft shoulder.

When she didn’t reply Worrick continued. “Don’t leave me”

At some point his eye had fluttered closed but he felt Alex shift against him, most likely to sit up and protest. He placed his index finger against his lips before she had a chance to say anything and breathed out a hush.

“Not forever but for now…I’m not strong enough yet to not have you around”

The pain in his eye had dulled down somewhere into an annoying hum, he could tolerate it now, but the pain in his heart from years of torment was still there, and it seemed that only Alex was able to distract him enough from time to time.

“Promise me that Alex-chan… please”

The slender hands were back again but this time on his chest, running through the wired hairs that sprouted from his skin and he felt the woman nod against his arm before the room fell silent once more.

The clanking of heavy metal and the occasional grunting echoed from downstairs to Worrick’s room but the rhythmic movement of the sounds worked as a lullaby for the both of them, nudging Worrick back to sleep with Alex next to him lazily playing with his chest.

He’d have to wake up soon but until then he’d spend the extra time trying to correct the nightmare he had before with nicer thoughts, ones that won’t haunt him in the day time and remind him of things he was trying to forget. 

**Author's Note:**

> Shitty ending I know and I'm sorry but thank you for reading!


End file.
